


You're the yellow bird I've been waiting for

by bchekov



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9260054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bchekov/pseuds/bchekov
Summary: It’s a bad idea, he thinks as he stares down at the street below. It’s a 20 meter drop at the very least but he’s had a couple of drinks and alcohol tends to make you uncaring of consequences.





	

It’s a bad idea, he thinks as he stares down at the street below. A very bad idea. It’s 20 a meter drop at the very least and his woolen socks happen to be quite slippery, but he’s had a couple of drinks and alcohol tends to make you uncaring of consequences. He shrugs off whatever thought that tells him to stay put and clumsily climbs the railing of his balcony. There are a few close calls but not before long he is standing upright, one foot ahead of the other, wearing a small grin of success. He takes a moment and relishes in the feeling of wind gently caressing his face and for the first time in forever he feels free. Eyes slipping close he dares to stretch out his arms, as if he’s reaching out for something, or someone, torn between the night and the safety of his apartment. The city noise fades and he is alone; the voices in his mind having quietened down for once.

(He isn’t entirely sure if it’s because of the wind or the booze.)

“That’s dangerous!” a loud voice interrupts his thoughts and he almost falls, moment gone and forgotten. His eyes snap open to glare at whoever was stupid enough bother him. He locks eyes with the culprit and mentally kicks himself. 

Of course it had to be him. The one and only Gon Freecss, a.k.a. the hot guy next door Killua might have a slight crush on. They had hit off right away but because of their busy schedules they rarely had time to hang out, or even talk save for exchanging hellos and the occasional good morning. Embarrassed to be caught like this Killua adverts his gaze but makes no move to get down.

“... Hi.” he chokes out, trying to count Gon’s freckles, but he doesn’t get past 5 before he gives up- everything too blurry for him to succeed.

Gon ignores him. “Why are you up there?” he asks, all knitted eyebrows and disapproving frown. Killua finds that he still thinks he’s unbelievably hot. 

He shrugs. “Because I want to.”

“...Aren’t you scared you’ll fall?”

Killua regards him for a minute, trying to come up with some kind of comeback but to his demise, his brain wasn’t willing to cooperate, so he ended up blurting out the truth instead.

“Not really,” he closes his eyes again and continues in a nonchalant tone. “I hate myself and I’m too drunk to care.”

His words are greeted by silence. While he was a little hurt by it, he expected as much. Despite what he felt towards Gon the sentiment might not be returned, so he shouldn’t expect special treatment. Even if he really wanted it.

He doesn’t open his eyes at the loud creaking, nor when he feels something blocking the wind; especially not at the wetness clinging to his eyelashes or the warm arms that envelop him. He lets himself be lowered to the ground, still refusing to look as he stands motionless. He’s so ashamed.

“Well, I’m sober and I care.” he hears Gon mumble into the crook of his neck, huggning him again. Brick by brick, his walls come tumbling down and he clings to Gon, hands clenching in the fabric of his shirt as he sobs quietly.

“Are you alright, Killua?” Gon asks as he gently rubs his back. Killua thinks he has never been touched so tenderly. It makes his heart ache to think about. He nods slowly and pulls back, not bothering to wipe his face.

 _Not in the slightest._ "I’m fine,” he tries to smile. He wants to elaborate, but he can’t find any words.

“Do you really hate yourself?” he pauses and considers lying. It’s the earnest expression he is met with that keeps him doing so.

Or the booze. He still isn’t entirely sure.

“... Yes.” he sighs, turning to watch the people below them. He pauses to think about them, what their stories might be, if they’d seen him standing on that railing. If they too, have ever stood on a railing and enjoyed the wind.

“Why?” Gon leans against the railing, facing Killua who still won’t meet his eyes. He shrugs, pretending to be preoccupied with People Watching, and rather feels than hears Gon exhale lightly. Not quite a sigh.

Despite his sturdy appearance, Killua decides, he is surprisingly gentle.

They stand in silence for a bit. It’s neither uncomfortable nor pleasant, it just is, and Killua is getting restless. His mind is filled with static, the kind that prevents any other thought from entering and won’t go away until you distract it. He thinks it’s the reason he started drinking, but he’s not sure. His memory is a little fuzzy and he feels light headed.

“Hey, Gon,” he starts, mouth running on autopilot. He stopped caring sometime after his first confession. Killua glances at him through the corner of his eye and resumes counting the freckles that rest on his cheeks. He doesn’t get far this time either, but they’re not as blurry this time so he calls it progress.

He’s still far from fine, and he might always be. But right now, he muses, he’s the closest he’s ever been to it. And this time he's certain it's not the booze.

“thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> i like to think they talked for some more until killua gets really sleepy and just before he goes to bed he tells gon he likes him. when he wakes up the next morning, hungover and grumpy, gon serves him breakfast on the bed and asks him out. they live happily ever after.
> 
> the end.


End file.
